What We Give Away

Carvings of animals in sections
of trees borrowed from friends,
and left as monuments in
the middle of the local woods.
They start to grow back into the
earth as the moss, and mushrooms
spawn against their surfaces.
They are visited on infrequent occasions,
often by the overly delirious just looking
for some clarity. Some have packed
small meals in baskets and others have simply
brought books and just sat there a while.
Whatever it is they represent knows
that there is something else growing
among all that light in the distance.
It is of the sun but not from it, and
there is nothing but the time
we give away.